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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27003481">And the Band (Did Not) Play On</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH'>INMH</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>trope-bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bully (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(it goes about as well as you'd expect), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Arson, Gen, Humor, Strong Language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:00:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27003481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“So… We saw this coming, right?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>trope-bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>And the Band (Did Not) Play On</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So… We saw this coming, right?”<br/><b><em><br/>BANG, CLASH.</em></b><br/><br/>Zoe nodded, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, I guess we did.”<br/><b><br/>CLACK<em>CLACK. </em></b><br/><br/>They sat on the bottom steps of the bleachers, watching as the battle before them unfolded with vigor.<br/><b><em><br/>WHACK.</em></b><br/><br/>“Because we weren’t under the delusion that those two would be able to <em>avoid</em> using the expensive music equipment as weapons at some point, right?” Petey sounded a little strained. “Right? Like, I’m not a prophet? I’m not getting revelatory visions from God- or Satan, fuck, I don’t know- about the future, right?”<br/><b><br/>CLACK<em>.</em></b><br/><br/>“No, you’re not.”<br/><b><em><br/>SMACK.</em></b><br/><br/>“Then why didn’t we put a stop to it?”<br/><b><br/>CLICKACK.</b><br/><br/>Zoe snorted. “What, you really think these two would have <em>let</em> us stop them?”<br/><b><em><br/>CRACK.</em></b><br/><br/>“<em>Ooh!</em>” Jimmy had a hand clapped over his mouth, muffling his guffaws. The clarinet in his hand had been badly cracked near the mouthpiece. Part of the reed had gone shooting across the gymnasium floor. Gary was laughing hysterically, whacking the flute in his hand on his knee. “Shit, I can’t believe a flute broke a clarinet!”<br/><br/>“I told you!” Gary squawked. “I told you! These instruments are made of the shittiest quality of material imaginable!”<br/><br/>“Ms. Peters is going to boil you both alive!” Petey called to them, eyebrows raised. “How do you plan on explaining all the damage to her?”<br/><br/>“Who cares,” Jimmy sniffed.<br/><br/>“<em>You</em> will, when she’s making you pay for the damage!” Zoe snapped.<br/><br/>“Oh, don’t you worry- I’ve got a plan for that,” Gary said with a smirk, flipping the flute deftly between his hands.<br/><br/>Jimmy must have been in on it, or he would have been as visibly concerned as Petey and Zoe, who exchanged wary looks.<br/><br/>“What <em>sort</em> of plan?”<br/> <br/>[---]<br/> <br/>Sirens wailed, and glass shattered.<br/><br/>“Gary, what the <em>fuck?!</em>”<br/><br/>“Shhhhh,” Gary whispered soothingly, a considerable under-reaction to Petey’s near-hysterical babbling. “Hush, Petey. If <em>all</em> the instruments are gone, then Peters never knows ours got broken!”<br/><br/>“<em>Arson is not a fucking <b>plan!</b></em>”<br/><br/>“Ix-nay the son-arnay, there are cops around,” Jimmy muttered lowly. “And technically, you knew and failed to report it, so you’re implicated too.”<br/><br/>Petey’s babbling grew worse as the firefighters began to turn the hoses on, dousing the gymnasium as best they could. Jimmy had yanked the fire alarm pretty quickly, so there wouldn’t be <em>too</em> much damage…<br/><br/>…Hopefully.<br/><br/>Oh well: At least they’d be getting out of some of Burton’s crueler tortures for the next few weeks.<br/><br/>“Relax, Petey, Peters got those instruments on the cheap, and they played like total shit. We just saved ourselves months of massive humiliation trying to do anything with them at football games,” Jimmy said. “It’s for the greater good.”<br/><br/>“In what bizarre alternate universe did Ms. Peters think that letting you idiots anywhere near the school band was a good idea?” Zoe whispered.<br/><br/>“A cruel and twisted one,” Gary giggled as the flames flared higher.<br/><br/>Petey sat down on the concrete, head in his hands.<br/><br/>“God, I hate you people. I hate you <em>so</em> much.”<br/> <br/>-End</p>
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